Silence Never Set You Free
by MadDub
Summary: John Egbert is lonely after the death of his father. He hates how silent his house is without Dad, ironically hates the lack of Betty Crocker baking in the oven. This is what led him to decide to buy a fish. Nothing complicated, just your everyday run-of-the-mill fish. This is how he did not get his beloved fish, but an abused and angry troll instead. Damn Jade to Hell.
1. Chapter 1

**So, I know I never actually updated Dark Carnival and that I'm no where near the half-way mark of Call Me, but I just can't help myself. I thought up an idea I really liked, and BAM! Here it is. On the plus side, I'm REALLY liking this one though. Like, really REALLY liking it.**

**Warning: EXTREMELY animalist trolls. **

**Also, this is pretty much petstuck. Just thought you should know.**

* * *

They had him trapped. Cornered like some kind of animal.

He was doomed, they all knew it, but he still kept his sickles up, fangs bared and eyes darting from figure to figure, furiously calculating how he should target first, who'd be the easiest to dispose of, how he'd go about slaying the others surrounding him. There were too many of them, there was no way he'd kill them all before they reached him—but he had to try. He couldn't surrender. Not now, not ever.

"Put your weapons down and place your hands above your head!" A deep voice boomed.

Karkat answered their command with an angry snarl, hackles raised and legs bent, ready to lunge at anyone who dared to move too close.

"I repeat, put your weapons down and place your hands above your head! If you don't, you can and will be subdued with force!"

Like these assholes were going to make it easy on him either way. No matter what he did at this point, he was well screwed over. They had already infiltrated the base, enslaved or slaughtered all of Karkat's companions. His reputation was tarnished, lies and gossip passed around to the point no one quite knew what was truth or myth anymore. The only possible good thing that could come out of this encounter would be for more people to realize he wasn't an aimless renegade set on killing—he was a fighter, and he'd go down fighting for his dreams if he couldn't obtain them.

Those surrounding him paused, probably waiting for him to give up, throw his weapons down. But he didn't.

Instead, he used their hesitation to dart for the closest person and chop his head clean from his shoulders, sending a geyser of blood up and many a cry of surprise as the others fumbled for their guns.

Vantas would be taken down eventually, this he knew, even as he danced between his foes, cutting and slicing and chopping them all down. To outsiders, it would appear he had the upper hand, that he was winning. And yes, he may have had the advantage, may have slaughtered many a human, but he knew this fight wouldn't end with him standing victorious. He'd be yet another body on the ground after this was over, and somehow, that spurred him on and made him all the angrier. He was going to **** these people up if he had to personally tear out every single one of his internal organs to do so.

When they did finally get him, it wasn't with a bullet. It was with a tranquilizer dart.

He only just had time to realize this meant they didn't plan to kill him—at least not immediately—which was somehow worse than actually dying, and meant this whole thing was just another screw up on the list of "Things Karkat Vantas ****ed Over Without Knowing How He Managed to Do It," before he crumbled to the ground, vision blurring, and then darkness was the only thing that stretched for miles.

* * *

John Egbert was pretty sure he needed a fish.

Fish were nice. They weren't noisy or got hair everywhere or eat all the food in the fridge, but were still good company. They floated around in a big ol' bowl of water and made bubbles and were pretty much just huge time killers and kind of nice to look at. A fish would be perfect for someone like John. He could use a good distraction these days.

It hadn't been so long ago that Dad's funeral had come to pass. He remembered the day clearly; the only day he'd allowed himself to wear black in four and a half months, the only day he'd allowed himself to tear up even a little over his father's death. Some strangers and distant family pointed out that it couldn't have been so bad; after all, Dad wasn't John's _real_ father. It wasn't like the man helped to _conceive_ John.

John tried not to be angry at those people, because he figured Dad wouldn't have wanted that and he understood that the other people just didn't get it, but it was hard. Whenever someone said stuff like that, all he really wanted to do was punch them right in their stupid face and tell them to screw off.

He didn't, though. Rose told him she was proud of his control. Dave told him he was on his way to "coolville," which was kind of ironic because "coolville" sounded like the very opposite of cool.

However, his control over his emotions was weak, and he wasn't about to deny it. His house felt lonely without his father, the normally heavy aromas of rising bread and sugary sweets absent, and leaving behind nothing but the smell of John. John didn't like the smell of John. It meant he couldn't smell Dad anymore, and for whatever reason, that broke his heart.

Luckily, Dad had taught John how to bake, and he still owned Nana's recipe book for pastries—the only problem was that John didn't like any of his family's cakes, and so had to pawn them off on other people.

At least it was good practice. As the last heir to the Betty Crocker line besides Jade, who wanted nothing to do with pastries aside from eating them, he was the one to inherit their family store, and so had to bake or cook everything himself. He didn't mind, either; not only did it keep him occupied six day a week for hours at a time, but it also gave him a job and a source of income, which was really great even though it was a bit small, since he was still only a senior in high school and had virtually no idea what he wanted to do with his life.

He was thinking he might just continue working the family shop. It was a nice, quaint little place, and since John liked working there, it could be just perfect. Imagine, him and a wife, baking and laughing and throwing icing at one another while the kids tried to steal a cupcake or two from the batch—all except for the youngest, who would hate Betty Crocker foods every bit as much as his father.

Okay, so maybe it was a bit of a daydream, but he really wouldn't mind it being a reality.

Man, he'd really drifted off from the point! The _point_ was he could really use a pet fish to distract him from his empty house. It wasn't so bad when he was working the shop or in school, but coming home was always a lonely, dreadful experience.

A fish might help. Yeah.

This is how John Egbert found himself in a pet store come Sunday, the only day Crocker's Goods wasn't open to the public.

It was a rank place, the scent of dogs and cats and bird crap clinging to the air and making his nose wrinkle as soon as he stepped inside. The noise, too, was a bit overwhelming at first, since he'd just drove over from his silent home, only to walk into a room bursting with so much noise and liveliness it gave him a headache.

"Welcome to Pet Palace!" a cheery girl behind the counter called, smiling brightly at him, "How can I help you today?"

"Uh . . ." Come on, Egbert, no stuttering! What would Dave say if he knew you were standing about, sputtering because you couldn't take a few house pet noises? "I'm just looking for a fish."

Smooth, dude. Real smooth.

But at least what he wanted was communicated, because with a flash of dazzling white teeth, the girl exclaimed, "Sure! Follow me and I'll show you to them!"

He trotted after her as she rounded the wall behind her counter, chattering about their awesome selection of awesome fish, though John only half-listened. It was only ten a.m., and he was really feeling it wear on him! The only reason he was up at the pet store so early was because he had a terrible time sleeping last night, continuously waking up until he decided screw it, he was going to go ahead and get that stupid damn fish pet he'd been wanting.

The cashier left him at a wall made entirely of fish tanks with various lighting. She wasn't kidding about the good selection—there were jellyfish, turtles, your common goldfish, catfish, even those funny fish that followed your finger if you moved it around in front of the glass! So cool!

He was still playing with those fish, giggling to himself in a totally manly way, when he felt his phone began buzzing in his pocket. Almost unconsciously, he pulled it out of his pocket and answered, still grinning as the little fishies followed his hand. "Hello?"

"John!" Jade squawked angrily, "Where are you?"

"Hey, don't yell at me! It's my day off! I don't have to work on Sundays, Jade, remember?"

"I'm not talking about work, John! We had a meeting today!"

John cringed. Shit. He'd all but forgotten that Jade had told him they had an Animal Protection meeting, or whatever the club was called. He was mostly in it because Jade, herself, had started the club, and as a good half-brother and friend, he tried supporting her by supporting the club she was so proud of. A club, he might add, that had grown exponentially since its opening only two years ago, and which had rescued many an animal from abusive homes and from the streets. It was really a good cause. And he felt like utter shit for forgetting about the inner circle's meeting today.

"Whoops," he squeaked sheepishly into the phone.

"Ugh! Sometimes I think you're turning into one of those old people who can't remember anything, you know that? Just hurry up and get here. We're waiting for you."

Without waiting for a reply, she hung up, leaving John standing with his mouth half open in the middle of a pet store, finger still in front of a fish tank. Well, it looked like he wasn't going to be buying a fish today, not if he didn't want to rush the purchase.

John felt no need to hurry his selection of a pet, so with a sigh, he left the store, apologizing to the woman behind the desk and promising to come back sometime later for a fish. All she did was smile and wish him a good day.

He may or may not have sped his way to the warehouse they held their meetings in, and may or may not have ran through the halls, only to burst dramatically into the conference room, hair sticking up every which-way and breathing heavily, and he may or may not have asked, wheezing, what he missed.

"Nice, Egderp," Dave commented, looking his up and down, the only indication of this being the slight tilt of his head. "Way to be a hella late."

"Shut up and fill me in," he gasped, slumping into the empty chair between Rose and Jade.

"I was just _saying_," Jade hissed, glaring at Dave as he opened his mouth for a witty retort. She didn't stop until he closed his mouth and held up his hands in surrender, only then continuing on with, "You guys might have already heard, but the government recently busted a fighting ring where they pitted trolls against one another."

They all nodded. Even John had heard about the fighting rings cropping up recently—they were terrible, terrible things that many a time forced whoever found those abused trolls to put them down like dogs, too violent and angry to be properly tamed or treated. It left many people angry, but what could they do? Trolls were stronger and much more violent than humans; if they couldn't calm the trolls, they risked their and others' lives. There weren't many good options when dealing with the other species.

"Well, the government recently found another one," Jade continued. John noticed everyone but Dirk's shoulders tensed a bit, "This particular group they were planning to put down with the others once they were located, on account of how much more violent this group was—not to mention they have a _psionic_ of all things—"

That was surprising. John had been so sure psionic trolls were nothing but a myth!

"—but fortunately for us, Dirk was able to pull some strings."

Everyone looked to the silent Strider, who pushed his anime shades further up the bridge of his nose, somehow looking cool as he did. How did he do that? John wanted to look cool in geeky things like anime shades! Life just wasn't fair sometimes.

"What was done with these trolls?" Rose questioned, frowning.

"Well . . . that's actually one of the main reasons I called this meeting . . ." Jade blushed sheepishly, "I couldn't ask the followers to do this, just because of how dangerous it is, and I wouldn't ask this of you guys either, but uh . . ."

"Spit it out, Harley," Dave said, raising a golden brow.

"Well . . . er, the deal was that if they didn't put down the trolls, we kind of have to find homes for them . . ."

"Oh my! Are you suggesting that _we_ take these hooligan trolls in?" Jake, Dirk's practically-engaged boyfriend—and Jade's relative in some way John didn't quite get—exclaimed.

"Maybe?" She answered, her voice ending in a squeak.

"How 're we shupposhed to take in a b—a bunch of trollsh out of nowhere?" Roxy asked, hiccupping. She was most likely drunk, if her slurred speech and flushed face were indicators of such a thing. Then again, Roxy was always drunk, so no one paid it much attention.

"I _did_ pick up some supplies and manuals on how to care for trolls," Jade responded a bit indignantly, "I wouldn't leave you guys to fend for yourselves without at least a _little_ something to help you out! And you guys don't have to take them in if you really don't want to, or if you can't for some reason. I was just hoping a few of you would . . . if you don't mind. I'll be taking two of them in, myself."

"How many are there?" Rose asked.

"They found twelve in all, which means if we all take in one or two, we can get them all off the streets."

Everyone fell silent, contemplating. Waiting for someone else to come forward and speak up. After a few beats of silence, Rose said, "I won't be able to take in more than one, if any. I already have a troll at home and would prefer not to come home every day to a house overrun by trolls."

"Okay, that can work! You have more money than most, so would you mind if I gave you one of the higher-maintenance ones?" Jade asked hopefully.

"Go ahead; it matters not to me."

"I'll take in two," Dave volunteered as well, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his seat. "But I want the psionic to be one of them. That shit is cool as all hell."

"Are you sure? Psionics can be a bit . . . dangerous." He sent Jade a pointed look, making everyone chuckle, "Then again, I guess you Striders thrive off danger, huh? Well, alright. Any requests for you second troll? Like, on behavior or looks or something?"

"Just give me the most ironic one you can."

"Can do. I hope," She glanced at everyone else. "Would anyone else mind taking in a troll or two?"

"I'll take in shome," Roxy announced, slamming an empty wine glass down on to the table top. "Jusht make shure they're nice to look at. Or hot. Or shomething."

"Oh . . . kay?" Jade replied a bit hesitantly. "I guess that settles it, then? I'll message some of my more trustworthy followers, then. I'm sure I could find a few people who would take in the last few—"

"I'll take one," John blurted, cutting her off.

The room fell strangely silent all of a sudden. John fidgeted uncomfortably as everyone turned to stare at him in stunned surprise, mouths open and eyes wide. One would have thought he had just volunteered to marry a male alien and have a plethora of hybrid babies or something.

"John . . ." Jade started, biting her lip.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Rose asked gently, "Not to offend you, but I know you've been struggling lately, and I'm not sure a wild troll would be a good idea for you at the current moment. Maybe you should wait and—"

"No," John interrupted, frowning at his female friends. "I mean it. I'll take in a troll. It's not like I really mind. The house is too quiet as it is, and besides, some of those trolls probably need it more than I do right now. A pet of some kind would be good for me anyhow."

"Dude, no offense—" Dave began, but John was having none of it.

"I even went browsing at Pet Palace today," he admitted, shrugging. "It'll be fine! Who knows, it might even be fun! And if things get too out of hand, I promise I'll call one of you guys and we'll figure something out."

"Well . . . alright," Jade gave in.

Everyone else remained silent, but John tried to ignore them. "So . . . we good?"

"Any requests on the troll?" Jade asked after a moment.

"Just give me the loudest one you can."


	2. Chapter 2

**What? An upload? After all this time?!**

**Yup. I am still alive and kicking, surprisingly enough! I bet you thought this day would never come. For those of you reading Call Me, I'm also almost done with that update, so woo! Maybe I can finish it soon-ish (no promises because my brain is being a complete and total shit right now). **

**BAAAAH THANK YOU FOR THE NICE COMMENTS. I HONESTLY DON'T KNOW WHY YOU LIKE THIS STORY BUT THANK YOU ANYWAYS BECAUSE YOU ARE AMAZING. **

**Also, it looks like I forgot to put in a break between POVs last chapter. Sorry about that. I'm fixing it right now.**

_**By the way this chapter sucks and I am so sorry for that.**_

* * *

Jake and Dirk were the only ones who didn't take in a troll.

No one really blamed them; after all, Jake was constantly travelling, therefore was never home and had no time for a pet, and while Dirk kept up their apartment (or really, Dirk's apartment—legally Jake didn't have a home yet), he preferred to follow his boyfriend across the globe or go DJing the night away.

Everyone else was told they'd have their trolls readied and delivered in a week.

John took this time to Google the supplies he'd need, and hurried off to go fetch everything. Sopor slime, a funny little contraption called a "recuperacoon," some raw meat (apparently trolls had a taste for meat. It was actually kind of freaky, but John tried not to think on it too hard), a muzzle (oh gosh, he wouldn't really use this, right?), a specially-made collar for trolls that included a remote to shock them with in the case they became too violent, clothes (he didn't know what size to get, so he just grabbed the largest things he could), and lastly, a spare room. The room, of course, he already had covered, but he made sure to buy everything else, even if the muzzle and shock collar made him extremely uncomfortable.

Then again, his new troll buddy would probably need it, as Jade said they'd be violent from abuse, but still. The thought of shocking anything made him feel nauseous. Maybe he wasn't cut out to be an owner yet. Maybe he should call Jade and tell her to cancel the shipping. He could go back to his original plan of a pet fish and no one would think any worse of him.

He shook his head, crouched in his living room next to the bag of pet supplies he'd bought just the other day. No, he wouldn't go back on his word now. He'd already told Jade he'd help her; he wasn't about to chicken out now. She was his friend! And as the friendleader, he was required to always be the bestest palhoncho ever for all of his friends.

There was no backing out now.

Sighing, he stood up and walked, barefoot, into his kitchen to grab some snacks, wrinkling his nose at the package of raw beef sitting in the middle of his fridge. Ugh.

* * *

Karkat couldn't see thanks to the stupid damn cloth tied over his eyes, but he could smell the humans _everywhere_.

They stole his shirt away and bound his hands behind his back, forcing him on to his knees with a swift kick to the sensitive skin in the crook of his legs. He fought even though he knew he'd lose, snarling and biting any piece of flesh he could possibly reach, lunging for hands and scratching at anyone who walked up behind him.

The humans were yelling at him and each other, trying to muscle him down, and though he was stronger and angrier than them, they outnumbered him. Even when he fought and won against them, they just called in more and more people to tackle him until he was efficiently dog-piled, hissing and wiggling furiously under the hot bodies keeping him down. He couldn't make out what they were saying with everyone shouting and spewing useless shit at each other, but he didn't much care to hear their verbal garbage anyway.

He howled with all the rage within his body when they pricked his neck, didn't stop until his body grew heavy and his brain lulled, mouth still working to pour curses and growls at the unfortunate, even as he slumped to the floor with a heavy thud.

* * *

John was hanging out with Dave in the old Strider apartment (now formally owned by none other than Dave himself) a few days after he went out to buy his new troll's new supplies. They were just sitting around, chilling out with a few bottles of apple juice John was surprised his bro was actually sharing—though he certainly wasn't complaining—lazy with the heat of the day.

He was honestly startled when someone knocked on the door outside, not expecting for Dave to have visitors, and glancing over at the younger Strider, he realized that Dave probably hadn't been expecting anyone either, if the raised brow was any indication.

"Who would be stupid enough to make a trip down into the hottest part of town on the warmest day of the year?" Dave grumbled almost to himself, slamming his half-empty bottle of AJ down on the coffee table and pushing himself off his sagging couch to go get the door. John didn't bother getting up to follow; he just leaned back into his seat and cranned his neck to see around the wall, spying his best buddy at the open door signing something.

_Hope Dirk didn't do something that angered his political pals again,_ he thought idly to himself, though he doubted Dirk would make the same mistake twice. That guy was a _genius_; there was simply no way he'd slip more than once at anything, much less in life itself.

"Holy shit."

It was the closest to an exclamation from a Strider that John had ever heard. Immediately, his curiosity was peaked, but he still didn't leave the couch. Allow a bro his privacy. Let him wallow in the feels, and when he comes back, give him a pat on the back and ask what crawled up his skinny white butt and made a nest.

But Dave didn't come back. John watched with rapidly increasing understanding as Dave stepped aside and allowed some buff men carrying two huge, covered cages into the apartment, stopping only to ask where Dave wanted them to set the "packages" down. Strider beckoned them into one of the back rooms, and this time John _did_ follow, in awe as the men set the stuff down and handed his buddy a bag.

"What's this?" Dave questioned as John drifted towards one of the cages, fascinated by the sounds of deep snores and loud, sleepy breaths.

"Drugs," one of the men gruffed. "Keeps 'em peaceful. You'll need to give 'em both two shots a day in order to keep them by law, since you got 'em from a fighting ring."

Egbert glanced over to peek at his friend, who was holding a syringe full of a bright green substance between pale fingers. "I have to give them shots? I wasn't told about this. When the hell did that become a thing? How do you even expect me to give this to them? I mean, if I were them, I definitely wouldn't hold still so some hot blonde dude could give me a shot of unidentified green stuff."

The guy shrugged, "It's mandatory. Government people said so. Find a way to give them the drugs twice a day, or have them taken away and put down. Your choice."

Dave and John shared a grimace. Or, well, John grimaced and imagined Dave internally grimacing. Having the trolls taken away to be put down was completely out of the question, even if they turned out to be extremely hard to deal with. First of all, it wasn't _right _by any means, and secondly, Jade would probably be really upset. And when Jade's not happy, no one's happy.

"Fine. Harley will so owe me for this," Dave said the last part under his breath, shoving the drugs back into the bag and placing them carelessly to the side, allowing them to drop to the carpeted floor with a loud rattling sound. He didn't seem too concerned if anything broke or spilled over, but John poked his head into the bag just to check.

All was well. Nothing broken or spilled yet.

The men filed out, closing the apartment door after them, but John was too busy messing around the cages to notice. He was really interested in seeing what the trolls looked like, never having had one himself, and only ever catching glimpses of them on TV or in pictures on Rose's phone.

"Yo, Egderp," Dave called, tearing his attention away from the louder troll's cage.

"Hmm?"

"Quit messing with the noobies. Let them rest for one frickin' second, will ya? I don't want you to wake them up and make them all hyper active."

"Aw, you just don't want to start cleaning up after them yet, do you?"

"Why would I? Egbert, have you ever known me to have a pet before this? The things I do for the ladies, man. Never say that Dave Strider didn't go over and beyond expectations, and all for the chicks." Dave shook his head, hands sliding into his pockets in a typical cool kid pose.

"Ew! You volunteered so you could date Jade?" John asked, wrinkling his nose.

"Of course not. We're, like, strife partners for life. That would never work in a healthy relationship."

"Yeah, right. Last time I checked, Jade decided she was against striving unless it was to save a life."

"Saves my life."

John rolled his eyes and followed his friend back into the living room, bickering and poking fun at each other the entire way. Though he giggled and teased as cheerfully as possible, his mind was a million miles away. If Dave already had his trolls delivered, then that meant John would receive his soon, right? He assumed they were getting all the trolls from the same place, so he could expect his new little guy in the next day or so, right?

Just thinking about it was making him excited and really, really nervous. What if he screwed up and it ran away? What if it didn't like him? Oh! Or what if they had one of those sweet master-dog relationships where they'd be uncharacteristically loyal to only each other and would be, like, the bestest of pairs? That would be so awesome.

He briefly wondered if those sort of relationships were even possible. Maybe he should ask Jade; she'd probably know. She used to have a really nice dog.

Dave raised his eyebrow at John, sprawled out across the couch across from him, making sure to take up the whole loveseat. "You better chill out, dude. Trolls can smell fear."

"What? No they can't!"

"Sure they can. Don't you remember how Jade told us all to be calm and cool around these things? There was a reason for that. And that reason was because they can sense your fear." Great, he was wearing that typical nonsense-Strider mask that made it incredibly easy to believe anything he said. John's prankster gambit had suffered traumatic damage thanks to that mask.

"You are so full of shit." He grumbled, scowling at the other.

"Nope. I'm one-hundred percent clean. If you don't believe me, go hang around one of those freakish things and internally freak. You'll see what I mean."

Don't fall for it. You know him, John; you know that he likes to mess with your head. Don't let him in, don't do it. There is no way he's telling the truth. Jade or Rose would have told you if trolls could "smell" fear or whatever Dave is suggesting. Nope. No way that he is being honest here.

"Sure, whatever," John replied with a good eye roll. He swiped his phone from the coffee table and began walking to the door, "I'm heading home before you can infect me with your _lies_. Bye, Dave!"

"So long, Egbert." That son of a biscuit didn't even wave as you left. Jerk.

John muttered profanities about Dave the entire walk home, kicking at pebbles and pouting slightly. He was not going to let Dave trick him again! It was happening!

Despite his words, John was relieved to arrive home and find no indication that his new troll had been dropped off yet. But it wasn't because he was afraid! He just, you know, wasn't entirely mentally prepared yet. Not that he needed to be! It wasn't like he felt like he needed to rearrange everything in his house and hide anything that could constitute as a weapon within easy reach of himself but away from foreign eyes.

Nope, he wasn't anxious in the least. Not even a little.

He was a man. Men weren't scared of anything!


End file.
